“Please,” Kate called. She pounded on the door, then decided that might not be the right way to convince the occupant that they weren’t dangerous. “We’re just kids that need help,” she said. “I swear. There’s a crazy guy out here, and he’s going to rape me.” The lie came easily enough.
The door stayed closed. This is what it must have felt like to the people in the Zeppelin, on the other side of the bathroom door.
“I have cash,” she said, lowering her voice. “About three hundred. It’s yours if you let us in.”
The door opened. The guy was younger than she’d expected, maybe early thirties. He wore a week’s worth of beard. She preferred scruff to a clean shave; liked the way it tickled her cheek. He held a crowbar. He eyed both of them, then moved aside to let them in. He shut the door behind them.
“Thank you so much,” Kate said. “You don’t even know how freaked out we are. We’re trying to get to Alcatraz.” She stood, dripping on the floor. Rain thrummed on the ceiling, a metallic sound that reminded her of being a kid, falling asleep in the family car on long drives. They were in a houseboat, a single room with a fold-down bed. In the corner was a bathroom, its door open. It was smaller even than the one on the Zeppelin. There was a rack of presumably clean dishes sitting on the covered toilet; a shower head above it, and a drain built into the floor. The room smelled like unwashed hair.
“You just saved our lives,” Kate added. The throbbing had moved from her shoulder to encompass her neck and upper back. She was afraid to stretch. It might make the pain worse.
“And the dude outside, that you said was after you?”
“Um, this is going to sound crazy.”
“Zombies?”
“Yeah.” It was a relief not to have to explain it all. “So that’s why we need to go to Alcatraz. And, um, my name’s Kate, and this is Trevin.”
The guy looked them up and down. He dropped his crowbar. It clattered, and Kate tensed. Pain shot through her shoulder.
“Paul,” he said. “And you are on the Mary Celeste Big Pimpin’. After my mother.”
Kate understood that he was referring to the boat. And that he was trying to be friendly. “Ladies is pimps, too.”
He smiled. “Thank you, Jay Z. Go on, take your rain gear off. Sit a minute while I make us some Model-T coffee and we can discuss the money. You have the choice of anything you want, so long as it’s black.” He folded down a table from the wall.
Kate did what he said. Trevin elbowed her when Paul’s back was turned. Thankfully, he hit her good side. She had a good side, now.
“I have it under control,” she whispered, hoping that she did. “Let me do the talking.” She resisted the urge to apologize. She’d put the kid into danger. They were lucky to be alive. “Just you on this ship?” she called.
“Too small for more than one. Don’t you think?” He sat. “Coffee’s a brewing.”
“And time’s a wasting,” she wanted to say. “Thanks,” she said instead. “It’ll be good to warm up a bit.” She was wet and cold. Her hair was dripping down her neck. Paul didn’t offer them towels.
“About that money,” he said. “Can I see it?”
Trevin started to move his hand. Kate nudged him with her knee, and he stopped. “I’ve got it,” she said. “Just a second.” She pulled the cash from her pocket and put it on the table. A pile of wet Jacksons. What Walter had given her, and what she’d taken from the emergency kit, was all she had. She might have had a five in her wallet but she didn’t take it out. Five bucks wouldn’t change anything. She felt the loss as Paul counted the cash, facing the bills as he went as if he’d been a cashier, too. Maybe money was useless already, or would be soon, but it was a bargaining chip she’d no longer have. Which was fine if it got them to safety.
“Cool,” he said. “And you want to go to Alcatraz? Because of the zombies.” He made it sound silly.
“Yeah,” she said. In the movie of her life, this scene would be shot in black and white. She’d be the noir detective-type, off to the Rock to fix shit and kick ass. Not running for her life. Not in pain, or if she was, she’d be hurt from a real wound. Knives or bullets. Not a muscle spasm.
“You’re lucky I have an engine. Just installed it, in my copious free time.”
She understood that he was unemployed.
“That’s the only reason I’ll accept your generous offer.” He pocketed the money. “So what do you kids like to do for fun?”
The coffee machine beeped. Kate was grateful. They were one step closer to getting away. Paul made her nervous. He was a cipher. He was taking her money. But he had a sense of humor. They might have been friends, if she’d met him under different circumstances. She could imagine what it would be like to rub her face against his. She knew better, but knowing and feeling were different.
“I like to watch TV,” she lied. “Especially reality shows. Also anything with food.”
Paul smiled. He must know she was joking.
So she told the truth. “I like to go on hikes, and run. Novels. Movies. I take literature classes. I have parties from time to time.” Trevin’s leg was still tangible next to hers, like an anchor to the world. “I have a boyfriend,” she added, not sure whether she meant Michael or Walter.
“You’re in good shape.” His gaze flicked from her eyes to her mouth to her tits. He stood, finally, and went to pour the coffee. “I used to date a girl looked like you. Best girl ever.”
“My kid brother here, he plays video games,” she said, pretending she hadn’t heard. Maybe if Paul thought they were related, he wouldn’t try anything.
He served coffee in three mugs. It was lousy, but it was hot. Kate warmed her hands on the mug. She vamped while they sat, talking about movies and TV. Paul seemed to expect it, and he chimed in a few times, agreeing or disagreeing. He didn’t offer liquor, and she didn’t ask.
She finished her coffee. She could feel the caffeine coursing through her. She wanted to stand, wanted to be moving. The tension in her shoulder grew tighter. Her eyes watered from the pain.
“So, Alcatraz?” she asked.
Paul didn’t move. He touched Kate’s hand. She pulled away after a moment.
“Dude,” Trevin said. “We gotta go. I mean, thanks for the coffee and the rescue and stuff, but how about it?”
Paul laughed. “Kid’s got some spunk.” He patted Trevin’s hand. “He’s good for you.” Paul stood, and put on a raincoat. “Gotta untie. Just a second.” He opened the door.
“Be careful,” Kate said. “They’re out there. I’m serious. Not funny.”
He gave her the thumbs-up sign, then picked up the crowbar and showed it to her. The door shut behind him.
“I hope he dies out there,” Trevin said. “He gives me the heebie jeebies.”
“Shh. He won’t die out there. He’ll come back in here first, and then we’ll die too.”
“We could kick him out.”
“Who’s going to pilot the boat then, us?”
“We just stay here.”
“And when they break the windows? What then?”
“I don’t like him,” Trevin said.
Paul came back in and closed the door. There was blood on the crowbar.
“OK, so, that rope’s done for. Had to cut it with my knife. Always carry a knife,” he said, gesturing with the crowbar towards the door.
Kate didn’t know if that was advice or a threat. Not that a man holding a bloody crowbar needed to make a veiled threat.
“What happened out there?”
“Never you mind.”
Maybe it had been the pirate-looking guy. “Were you bit?” she said. She knew she had to ask. She knew also that he might lie, if he knew anything about zombie stories.
“Hell, no. I’m too fast. Except for where it counts, sugar.”
She looked away. She could see Alcatraz through a gap in the curtains. So close. She concentrated on looking unattractive. Maybe she could fart. Unless he was into that, somehow.
“Well, after I’ve gone through all that trouble,” he said. “I guess we’d best go, then.” The engine turned over with a rumble of diesel. He backed the boat out of the dock, through the rain. “You’re lucky I’m as nice as I am,” he said. He was shaking. He’d turned his back because he didn’t want them to see it.
“I am, indeed.” Kate took a breath. “Do you want to come with us? My friend says Alcatraz will be safe. Defensible.” She had to shout over the motor.
Trevin elbowed her. Maybe she was making a mistake. “I mean, it’s got no resources. Have to truck in water and food. It’ll probably be cold and miserable.”
“Yeah, no. You young people go for it. Not me. Ol’ Mary and I are in it together. I’ve had her five years. She’s stuck by me longer than any other girl ever has. That’s not a comment about my mom.”
Kate was relieved he’d said no. Mostly for Trevin’s sake. Paul would probably be fine on his own. Not that he was her problem. “You might just want to stay in the water for a while,” she ventured.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Paul put on some music. Early stuff, sounded like Run-DMC. He bobbed his head. The noise of the engine made conversation difficult, which was fine. She patted Trevin’s knee, under the table. She looked out the window. The sky was dark. The light from the lighthouse was coming closer. Paul lit a cigarette. The smoke drifted through the cabin, calling up memories. Kate wrapped her hands around her empty coffee cup. It was cold. If she could just hold still, be calm, they’d be all right. Her shoulder hurt, way worse than her head. She started to feel seasick. She focused on breathing. This will pass, she told herself. Everything did, eventually. It would be worth it. She and Trevin would be at Alcatraz within a few minutes. They could set up camp in one of the buildings. Michael would be there already.
Paul pulled up to the dock. He got out, then came back in. “I’m not going to tie off. We’re close enough. You can jump.”
Kate retrieved her backpack and raincoat from the floor. She put them on. Trevin did the same. “Thanks, Paul,” she said. “Much obliged.”
Paul stood by the door, holding it open. He leaned in to kiss her. Kate turned her cheek. “I have a cold sore,” she lied. “I’ll look you up sometime.”
He squeezed her ass. “No, you won’t. I can tell.” He smelled of smoke and yesterday’s T-shirt. But the look he gave her made her feel like he understood. He’d been lied to before. This was nothing different.
She touched his cheek. His beard felt like she’d imagined.
“Let’s go,” Trevin said. Without waiting, he leapt over the black water to the dock. There was, mysteriously, a paddleboat tied to the far side, plus a rowboat. What kind of dumbass would take a paddleboat out on the Bay?
Kate jumped. Her shoulder and back and neck ached from the landing. She looked back and waved. “Thanks!” she called, hoping he could hear her over the engine. Paul closed the door. The Mary Celeste Big Pimpin’ left in a cloud of diesel fumes.
“Well, that’s that,” Kate said. “A little lighter, cash-wise, but still intact. Let’s go find a building with a roof. You got my phone still?”
He took it out. There was no service. “I’m really glad we’re done with that guy. He’s a total douche.”
“You kids and your language. Do you even know what a douche is?”
They walked uphill, discussing it. The rain hadn’t slowed down. Barbed wire topped the tall fence. It faced inward, guarding against prisoners. She tried the door of the gift shop at the bottom of the hill. It was locked. The place felt empty, but there were those boats. Someone was here. She noticed a staircase behind a building near where the tour started. It was fenced off, but the padlock was unlatched. This might be the staircase from which a girl fell, years ago: the daughter of one of the leaders of the Native American rebels. That would explain why it was fenced off. Kate had bought a book at this gift shop that said that the girl had probably been pushed, because other kids were jealous of the attention her family was getting.
“Let’s try going up there,” she said. “Get a look around the island.”
“Heya,” a male voice called. “How you doin’?”
She hadn’t heard them approach. If they could construct sentences, chances were that they weren’t zombies. She turned at the waist, because it hurt too much to turn her head. Three figures in ponchos were standing on the walkway.
“Hey,” she said.
“You looking for a safe place?” the same voice called. He came closer. In the sodium-yellow lighting his face was a swarm of shadows under his hood.
“That’s why we’re here,” Kate said. Probably these guys weren’t just being altruistic. “My bro and I, we’ve got some gear to share, in exchange. Looking for a friend of mine—of ours—guy named Michael? Kinda tall?”
“This is our island,” the guy said. “We work here. Got a text from a bitch I know, and my buddies and I slipped the ferry back. Figure it’s safer out here. What with the zombies, and all. You’re here because of them, right? Is it crazy out there?”
Kate was relieved that she didn’t have to explain the whole thing. Still, she didn’t like his language. She didn’t mind swearing, but that in the context he’d used it, bitch was derogatory. “I know, tell me about it,” she said. “We saw a mother eating her kid like maybe an hour ago.”
“See, I told you,” the guy said to his friends.
“Yeah,” Trevin said. “They’re all over the East Bay.”
“Is it safe here?” Kate asked. “I mean, I imagine all of the tourists went home already. My name’s Kate, by the way.”
“Trevin,” Trevin said.
The leader of the boys stepped forward. He took down his hood. He was good-looking, clean shaven, short hair. His face was angular. He seemed like the kind of guy who was concerned with respect from other guys. The kind of guy who couldn’t keep a job for long. She’d worked with his type before.
He smiled. “Katie,” he said. “That’s a nice name. You can call me Rob, and this is Will and Ray.” He didn’t indicate which was which. “We’ve got a nice setup. Hot plate, blankets, out of the elements. We’ve been expecting the apocalypse for a while.”
Kate made herself smile. If they had a safe, warm hangout, what were they doing traipsing around the island? “What kind of apocalypse?”
“What’cha got? Power outage, fire, earthquake, dirty bomb. People act the same, regardless. If there really are zombies, we’re ready. And the Rock is the place to be.”
“Are there a lot of people here yet?” she asked.
“No. You planning on throwing a party?”
“Oh. No. Just curious. That’s cool.”
“What about the boats?” Trevin asked.
Kate kicked his shoe. “How about we get out of the rain? Why are we just standing here?”
“What boats?” Ray asked.
“He just meant that, um, don’t you normally have some boats docked, to get back and forth? Or do you just take the ferry?”
“Ferry,” Ray said. “That’s what I said. How did you guys get here?”
“Dropped off,” Kate said.
“There anyone else tied up at the dock?” Rob asked.
“I don’t remember seeing anyone,” Kate said. Probably Michael wasn’t even here. Probably he wasn’t going to make it at all. He’d be gathering up a group, trying to save everyone, and the group lag would make it impossible to leave. Unless the paddleboat was him. That she could believe. “I’m going to go look for him.”
“Why don’t you come with us?” Rob said. “Get warm first. If he’s here, chances are he’s inside the main building anyway. Everything else is locked up snug.”
“All right,” Kate said. “Lay on, MacDuff.”
“Who’s that?”
“Sorry, old movie reference. Means ‘after you.’” She knew it was Shakespeare, but these guys would think she was being a snob if she’d said so.
Rob led them to th
e main prison building. The island was eerie at night. Inside the prison it was barely warmer than the air outside, but at least it wasn’t raining. They went in through the showers, which were draped in plastic sheeting. Still under construction, or restoration, or something. Signs in various languages gave information about the tour. They went up the corrugated metal staircase, the steps rubbed smooth from the feet of prisoners and tourists. Their footsteps echoed. Kate couldn’t help looking around. The place was so empty. She could feel the presence of hundreds of angry men, locked away without hope. Rob led them through the prison to the gift shop at the end. It was a big facility. She remembered there being another gift shop in the outbuildings; the island was big enough to support two of them. Rob took a bottle of water from the shelf and drank.
“Dude, seriously,” Will said. “The whole zombie thing? It’s not like we’ve seen one. We’ll lose our jobs for sure if we trash the place.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Rob knocked over a display of books. “This is what I’ve been waiting for.” He took off his poncho.
“Do you have any whips?” Kate asked. “Because that’s what you really need.” She took off her raincoat and sat on the carpet. It was good to sit. The buzz from the coffee was already wearing off. Trevin sat next to her. They were both dripping wet. She opened her backpack and drank from one of her bottles of water. She thought of offering the rest of it to Trevin, but caught herself in time.
“Whips?” Rob asked.
She explained.
“Bitchin’,” Rob said. “Some BDSM shit. That’s pretty hot.”
“Not at all, actually,” Kate said. “In theory, maybe. Not in practice. There’s a difference.” She wanted to try to rub her aching shoulder, then decided against it. She didn’t want to give anyone ideas.
Rob sat. “We have access to the gun cabinets. Shotguns, all that. I’m not worried about protecting myself. And we can protect you, if you want to stay with us.” He flicked his gaze down, and up.
“You couldn’t hope for someone better,” Trevin said. “She knows everything you need to know. She’s already saved my life a few times. You wouldn’t believe what it’s like out there. Zombies with bones showing, and they don’t even care.”
The Loving Dead Page 21
